#plush luxurious bed

[plushfurniture]

Exclusive Ambassador Bed with Mattress | Plush Furniture

For people all across the world, adjustable beds are a lifesaver. People with restricted mobility benefit from the flexibility and support, which relieve a variety of health ailments like back pain and asthma and increase independence. We can assist if you're seeking the best mattress for an adjustable ambassador bed with mattress and considering buying one for yourself.  A bed that can be adjusted into various positions using strategically positioned hinges and manual or electric mechanisms is known as an adjustable ambassador bed. The mattress' many portions can be altered to accommodate various sleeping positions; You can sit up in bed by raising the head end of the bed. To allow blood to drain from the feet and legs, the foot end of the bed can be raised. The bed can be moved up and down. To raise the knees, raise the center part.

Because every adjustable bed is unique, be sure to read the specifications before making a purchase. Some innerspring mattresses shouldn't be used on adjustable ambassador crushed velvet beds because they could get damaged by bending. On an adjustable bed, hard elements cannot be used as beds. Check the guarantee because not all mattresses are intended for use on an adjustable bed.

Are you looking to buy an adjustable ambassador bed with mattress,  Plush Furniture offers a wide range of Luxury designer ambassador bed frames & exclusive bed frames at affordable prices. We design and manufacture luxury bed designs in the UK. Add elegance to your home with our wide range of furniture products, headboards, and frames, children's car beds & more.

Get in touch with us at 01924 672133 or mail us at [email protected]

#plush furniture #ambassador bed #ambassador bed with mattress #ambassador bed frame #luxury ambassador bed #plush beds #plush luxurious bed

[plushfurniturestore]

Modernize Your Bedroom with Plush Furniture's Headboard Collection

What better way to modernize and enhance the design of your bedroom, which serves as your own haven, than with a gorgeous headboard from Plush Furniture's collection? Our headboards are made to turn your bedroom into an opulent retreat, whether you're going for a modern, sleek style or a hint of classic elegance. To design a bedroom that represents your taste and refinement, find the ideal match for your own style.

Embrace Contemporary Chic: 

Our modern headboard collection is ideal if you are drawn to simple shapes and minimalistic style. Choose from modern, upholstered alternatives with geometric designs and smooth finishes. To create a statement, choose muted colors or strong hues. These headboards deftly combine simplicity and design, giving your bedroom a modern and fresh feel.

Timeless Elegance:

Timeless Elegance: For those who prefer a more traditional and timeless aesthetic, our classic headboard collection is sure to captivate you. Indulge in the charm of Chesterfield-inspired designs with exquisite button-tufted detailing and curved edges. Crafted with premium materials and available in rich fabrics or luxurious leather, these headboards bring an air of sophistication to your bedroom.

Statement-Making Designs:

Do you want to say something audacious? Unique and striking designs from our statement headboard collection serve as the centerpiece of your bedroom. Investigate headboards with beautiful patterns, towering heights, or eye-catching shapes. These headboards give any room a bit of drama and flair with winged motifs and carved wood.

Customization Options:

At Plush Furniture, we recognize that each person has a unique idea of what their ideal bedroom should look like. Because of this, we provide customization possibilities for many of our headboards. 

Conclusion:

Transforming your bedroom into a modern oasis is as simple as choosing the right headboard from Plush Furniture's collection. Whether you prefer contemporary chic, timeless elegance, or statement-making designs, our headboards offer a wide range of options to suit your taste. Elevate your bedroom with the perfect blend of style and comfort, and create a space that reflects your unique personality and preferences. Explore the Plush Furniture headboard collection today and experience the difference it can make in modernizing your bedroom.

Visit: https://plushfurniture.co.uk/collections/headboards/

Feel free to connect us at [email protected] or 01924672133

#plush furniture #plush luxurious bed #luxury plush bed #plush bed online #shop luxurious headboard #shop headboard online

[joeexclamation]

#the plaza #plaza hotel #nyc #room service #luxury bedding #plush #chandelier #mine #photography

[ask-the-dweets]

🧸

Do they have any stuffed animals? If so, are they decorative or do they sleep with them?

Yes! Dwight's a cuddler and likes to have something he can snuggle in bed, an extra pillow or plush works just fine. In the real world none of them had a large collection of plushes, just one or two they found cute or comfortable and then any extra that held sentimental value.

Of course, in the fog they're lucky to have a pillow at all. They could get crafty with scrap fabric and thread and make their own crude stuffed animals if they really wanted, but the material could be put to better use elsewhere.

#ask meme #ask the dweets #elf dwight #well...you can tell what it is but it probably didn't hold together very well XD #I'd assume they would scavenge scraps of fabric that they use for bedding and medical supplies #It's hard to come by though so it's not often they can spare it for more crafty luxury things like plushes

[furryfields00]

Your Pet's Comfort Companion: Luxury Carrier Airline Approved!

Crafted from premium materials, this carrier ensures your pet travels in the lap of luxury pet carrier airline-approved featuring plush padding and soft, breathable fabrics for ultimate comfort. Its sturdy construction provides both security and durability, giving you peace of mind during travel. Whether you're jet-setting across the globe or embarking on a weekend getaway, ensure your furry companion travels in luxury and comfort with our recommendations. Watch now to discover the perfect carrier for your pampered pet!

#plush sofa cover #non chewable dog bed #architecture #best dog car seat cover #animals #luxury pet carrier airline approved

[plutusbrands]

The Art of Layering Throws: A Comprehensive Guide to Plutus Brands Luxury Throws and Blankets

The Art of Layering Throws: A Comprehensive Guide to Plutus Brands Luxury Throws, Faux Fur Throws & Throw Blankets Unleash the transformative power of layering throws and elevate your home into a haven of comfort, luxury, and style. This comprehensive guide explores the art of layering with a special focus on the captivating charm of Plutus Brands Luxury Throws and Faux Fur Throws.Why Layer…

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#animal cruelty #bedding #decor #design #ethical fashion #faux fur vs. real fur #home decor #luxury home textile #plush blankets #stylish throws

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

#sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna x female reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x female reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #zaraswriting #sukuna x concubine

[jutebaby]

Every night my body feels tense and like i can't find a comfortable position no matter what. I finally realized last night that it turns out that my back just hurts and i was misinterpreting those body signals😭

#the luxurious plush ass foam that i got for my bed is too soft unfortunately

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !

“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.

“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”

he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.

“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.

“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.

“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.

you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.

his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”

you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.

“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.

you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.

you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.

“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“

“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.

“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”

“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.

“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.

“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”

gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.

you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.

“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.

you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.

“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you

[granddaughterogg]

Simon Riley truly wants to watch movies with you before sleep.

Of course he does.

Your dedication to the case disarms him, even though he wouldn't let it show. The amount of time you spend on choosing the right flick. The way you arrange your battered laptop on top of a pile of books set on a chair, placed at a strategic distance from your shared bed.

He loves to watch as you fluff the pillows (each one from a different set, including Blahaj the plush shark). To watch as you press the 'play' button and then look up to him with starry eyes, saying: "This is gonna be good!"

He's endeared to the way you crawl under the duvet (and under the electric blanket as well, because Simon is perpetually cold) to snuggle trustingly into his side. How you throw your short leg over his massive thigh, clad in grey sweatpants.

Here's the problem though. All those small luxuries...the soft bedding, the familiar warmth of your body and the pleasant buzz emitted by the laptop engulf Simon in a soothing sense of safety. And there's only one way that a trained soldier's body can metabolise such a feeling.

The man conks out instantly and sleeps like a stone.

At first, you felt offended by this rejection of your honed cinephile taste. By the fifth time, you've realised it wasn't about the films or about you.

You've stopped poking him. You'd just slid your fingers into his tousled, reddish-blond hair, which gets all wavy whenever Simon skips his bi-monthly trip to the barber. You've learned to enjoy the rest of the film by your lonesome, listening to Simon's quiet snores by your side. You let this troubled soul enjoy his moment of peace.

Yes - the fearsome Ghost snores. He's had his nose broken more times than he can remember.

#simon ghost riley #modern warfare #simon riley headcanons #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon x reader #simon riley cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #ghost x you #ghost fluff #ghost simon riley

[dajiandengineers]

#black bedroom #modern loft #furniture #contemporary luxury #stylish retreat #sophisticated style #chic furnishings #relaxing atmosphere #plush bedding #clean lines #trendsetter #ultimate comfort #modern loft style #luxurious #sophisticated #modern trendsetter #relaxation

[plushfurniture]

#plush furniture #plush luxurious bed #plush luxurious headboard #modern headboard #plush headboard online #upholstered headboard

[plushfurniturestore]

Transform Your Bedroom with Wingback Bed with Drawers by Plush Furniture

In today's hectic world, maintaining a calm and clutter-free bedroom is crucial for getting a good night's rest. Plush Furniture, a renowned name in the furniture industry, has introduced a revolutionary solution to enhance both comfort and storage in the bedroom with its Wingback Bed with Drawers. This article examines the qualities and advantages of this ground-breaking piece of furniture, emphasizing how it blends design, use, and convenience to make your bedroom a tranquil retreat.

Stylish Design and Timeless Elegance:

The Wingback Bed with Drawers by Plush Furniture features a stylish design and timelessly elegant appeal that instantly raises the visual appeal of any bedroom. With its soft curves and exquisite tufting, the unique wingback headboard offers a touch of opulence and elegance. This bed was meticulously crafted, and you may personalize it to match your preferences and current décor by choosing from a variety of high-end upholstery options.

Ample Storage Space:

The Wingback Bed with Drawers' innovative incorporation of storage space without sacrificing beauty is one of its most notable characteristics. The bed frame has many roomy drawers that are neatly placed underneath the platform for the mattress. These built-in drawers have plenty of space for storing additional blankets, pillows, clothes, or anything else you want to keep arranged and accessible. A clutter-free atmosphere is created by the intelligent design, which guarantees that the storage solution melds effortlessly with the overall structure.

Convenience and Functionality:

The Wingback Bed with Drawers is a monument to Plush Furniture's understanding of the value of convenience in contemporary living. The built-in drawers maximize floor space and improve the design of the bedroom by eliminating the need for extra dressers or storage boxes. Whether you live in a large bedroom or a small studio apartment, this bed provides a useful way to organize and clean your living area.

Conclusion:

The Wingback Bed with Drawers by Plush Furniture redefines the concept of bedroom furniture by seamlessly integrating style, functionality, and convenience. With its elegant design, ample storage space, and superior comfort, this bed offers a sanctuary of relaxation and organization. Whether you're living in a small apartment or a spacious home, this innovative piece of furniture proves that you don't have to compromise on either comfort or storage. Plush Furniture has once again raised the bar in the furniture industry, making the Wingback Bed with Drawers a must-have for those seeking both style and practicality in their bedrooms.

Visit www.plushfurniture.co.uk 

Feel free to connect us at [email protected] or 01924672133

#plush furniture #luxury plush bed #plush bed online #plush luxurious bed #winged bed #winged bed with headboards #wingback bed #wingback bed with drawers #ambassador beds #ambassador winged bed

[simpingforstardew]

a mini cozy harvey smut would be amazing if possible ❤️ 🤭

no pressure of course!

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: one mini cozy harvey smut, coming right up~ just some fluffy smut, pretty much no plot ♡ i really hope you like it !!

warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni), reader is described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader receiving).

word count: 1.3k

Sparrows chirp outside as rays of the spring sunrise filter through your sheer curtains, casting a golden glow into the room. Beneath the layers of yarn blankets enveloping the bed, you luxuriate in their comforting embrace, basking in the tranquillity of the early morning.

Beside you, Harvey stirs, stretching languidly while he haphazardly pushes the duvet off his body. As he arches his back slightly, the fabric of his white t-shirt obediently follows the movement, riding up to reveal a glimpse of his belly underneath and the happy trail that adorns his midsection. Your eyes follow the trail down to his green plaid boxers, hanging loosely on his hips.

“Darling, you’re staring.” Harvey whispered through a grin, his morning voice more gruff than usual; his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

You smile in spite of the blush that warms your cheeks, “I’m allowed, aren’t I?”

The doctor rubs his heavy eyes as a soft chuckle escapes his lips, “Shh, come here, you’re-,” A yawn interrupts him, “You’re so far away.”

“I’m only on my side of the bed, Harv,” You giggle, shuffling towards your boyfriend, “‘s not that far.”

He wraps you protectively in his arms, one hand lightly massaging your back while the other finds itself on the back of your head, pushing you comfortably into the warmth of his chest. Harvey’s chypre scent was just as comforting as the embrace. Your calloused fingers trace shapes into the skin under his t-shirt, trying to remember where each mole and freckle is.

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, looking up at him as another smile tugs on his lips.

“Of course, I just hope you know that I love you more.” He kisses your forehead. You still weren’t used to the tickle of his moustache.

You reach a hand up to caress his soft cheeks, while his viridescent eyes scan your face— as if he was memorising every feature. Harvey’s strong arms pull you impossibly closer as you stare at his mouth, your thumb delicately brushes along his lower lip.

Before you could tease him for the flush that was quickly colouring his cheeks, he leans down to kiss you.

His lips, soft and yielding, already carried the faint taste of coffee; it was intoxicating. A soft whine escaped his lips as you threaded your fingers through his dark hair, still tousled from sleep. Touching him feels like heaven; tasting him is like indulging in a forbidden fruit. It was the kind of adoration that devotees created worship for.

You hadn’t realized how desperately you needed this until this moment, a moment in which you two are the only people awake in the valley. Every sensation seems to converge into a single, overwhelming need for closeness.

Harvey’s large hand moves down to your thigh as it rests on his hip, tugging you desperately towards him, as he deepens the kiss. This kiss is nothing like your first just weeks ago: a gentle, yet nervous confession. This is carnally unrestrained; honest.

“Please I-,” the whispered plea slips out of your kiss bitten lips.

“Fucking insatiable,” Harvey chuckles softly, his lips still brushing against your own, before rolling to cage you between his arms. With your back now pressed against the plush sheets, Harvey took the opportunity to tug off his wrinkled t-shirt, fumbling with the hem before discarding it on the floor. With anybody else, at any other time in his life, perhaps he would have been too insecure to do so.

Harvey’s large frame hovers over you, his hand gentle on your neck as he leans in close. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers; you feel the warmth of his breath caress your ear, “I need to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me here— Please, I…” you beg, voice reduced to a hoarse whisper, “I need you, Harvey.”

He kisses down your neck, nipping just to see you squirm, as his hand caresses your chest beneath your t-shirt.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate,” he continues to praise you between kisses, marking your most sensitive areas as he makes his way down your body, “So pretty.”

As he shuffles down the bed, he lifts up your t-shirt to kiss your belly— blowing the occasionally raspberry in response to your embarrassed whines. You look down to see him comfortably snug underneath the duvet, kissing your inner thighs with delicate reverence before meeting your gaze.

“Hi.” he smiles, chuckling as he looks at you longingly.

“Hi.” you respond breathlessly, stroking the brunette waves of his hair. You involuntarily tighten your grasp when you feel the warmth of his breathe tease your clothed pussy; a sinful moan escapes his lips in response.

“Careful, darling,” Harvey exhales, “You don’t want me to come that fast, do you?”

Your breath hitches as you hopelessly buck your hips, feeling both of Harvey’s large hands reach to grab your ass “N-no, fuck— sorry.”

Your wetness soaks through your underwear as you feel Harvey’s deft fingers rub slow circles on your clit; his other hand moving to diligently massage your tense hips. Despite the doctor’s dominant act, you could feel him grinding against the soft mattress as he pants pathetically. He glances up with puppy dog eyes, through the hair that had cascaded down his face, to watch for your reactions.

“Do you-,” you whimper, interrupted by the increasing speed of your boyfriend’s fingers, “Do you want to fuck me, puppy?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything,” Harvey sits up, tugging off your underwear, “but right now, I need to taste you.”

Harvey is quick to begin lapping up your juices, occasionally moaning to send vibrations through your sensitive cunt. He is committed to satisfying every inch of your sex so much it almost overstimulates you. His hot mouth, his coarse moustache, his wet tongue, all determined to make you climax.

“So gorgeous for me like this, darling,” Harvey gasps; all you can do— all you want to do— is whimper and moan as you weakly grind against his face.

Slowly, he pushes two fingers inside you— the mess of your anticipation from Harvey’s unrelenting praise making the perfect lube. The delectable stretch just barely satisfies the heavy ache in your pussy; so you roll your hips in time with his digits as they slide in and out, hitting just the right spot. With his fingers fucking you, he continued to eat you out like a man starved. You spread your legs further when he pulls you closer to his face, resting one thigh on Harvey’s shoulder.

“Mmm, p-please.. Fuck—” your moans were becoming unintelligible, your boyfriend’s ministrations unravelling you completely, “Please, Harv’— I’m so close.”

Snapping your hips back and forth, Harvey’s nose nudges against your clit as he groans beneath you; you quickly came undone. As you stumble blissfully towards your release, your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls slack; wanton cries fill the room. You feel your legs continue to shake when Harvey pulls his fingers out, the absence of his touch making you whine.

“So good for me, I got you. There you go—,” Harvey soothes; as you open your eyes again, you’re greeted by the sight of him sucking your juices from his fingers. His unwavering eye-contact leaving you breathless, “All for me.”

He makes his way back up the bed, bringing you back into his arms as you catch your breath; after a few moments, your light-headedness fades as you ground yourself in his embrace.

“Wait, Harv—” you mumble, “What time is it? You don’t have to be in the clinic today do you?”

“Shh, don’t you worry, Maru has everything sorted out for today,” he traces shapes in your back, almost lulling you back to sleep, “How about I get you some water while you go to the toilet, then I can make us some breakfast? Is that ok, honey?”

You nuzzle into his chest, nodding emphatically to his morning plans, “Sounds perfect.”

#sdv fanfic #stardew valley #sdv harvey #sdv x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv x farmer #sdv x y/n #sdv harvey x y/n #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #smut #sdv harvey smut #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley harvey smut #ao3 writer #sdv

[bombz-n-bluntz]

Man I really softened up in overwatch

#using actual nail polish frequent baths a plush bed big enough to fit a gorilla and a half #doubt my ass returned to junkertown for good. this was like all my favorite parts about doing heists #but like without having to lay low in shitty conditions. i liked the luxury of it #talkin #mems

[sunkissedrafe]

bffs w rafe and he’s obsessed w you. wakes you up by sneaking into your room and yall do stuff 🤭

Locked

summary: the request above!:)

word count: 3.3k

(SPOILERS) warnings: somnophilia(sleeping), dubcon, p in v, fingering, male masturbation, secretive photos, breaking and entering, unprotected sex. MDNI!

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

You really don’t know how it all happened the way it did.

The way Rafe took you under his wing all those years ago. The way he’s constantly glued to your side, going as far as attending parties full of pogues, sticking out like a sore thumb while he marches around, grabbing you another beer when you need it or shooing away the belligerent drunk men trying to hit on you.

Things like this aren’t the norm.

Boys like him just aren’t friends with girls like you. He’s used to a life of luxury; boats, tropical vacations, the most expensive clothes made of materials you can’t even pronounce.

You consider yourself lucky if your water isn’t shut off when you got home after a long day of sweating and panting in the heat.

But the world works in crazy ways, and Rafe Cameron is your best friend.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The two of you sit on the edge of your bed, controllers in hand as you peer up at the screen with wide eyes.

“No, no… Rafey!” You squeal as the screen flashes, letting your head drop down, your hair falling across your face with a huff.

He chuckles smugly. “What, kid?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a sly grin written across his face and amusement laced into his voice.

“You said you’d let me win this round.” You mumble, dropping the controller onto the plush rug below your feet.

“What the point in that?” He laughs as he pushes himself to stand. “Like… how would that even be any fun?” He moves in front of you and nudges your forehead with his fingers so that you look up. You trail your gaze up to his own, his blonde wispy hair brushing his brows. “Quit bein’ a baby.” He gives your jaw a light, playful tap.

You flutter your eyes at him before giving him a scowl, falling onto your back and staring at the ceiling as his footsteps audibly trail across your room.

You hear him fumbling with something near your window and turn your head to the side, raising your brows as he turns around holding your planter with a cactus you’ve nearly killed from incorrectly watering it.

“Look at this poor thing,” he chuckles, turning the planter around and examining the plant. “You’ll never have a green thumb.” He laughs and sits the plant down where he found it, patting his pockets as he walks away from his spot.

You sit up and watch as he settles near your bedroom door and grabs his tennis shoes, bending down to pull them over his feet.

“Leaving already?” You ask meekly, already dreading the feeling of his absence though he still stands in the room with you.

“Yeah, gotta go.” He lets out a long sigh as he stands back up to his full height and leans against the door frame. “Got some shit to work through with my dad tonight. I’ll see you soon though.” He walks over to where you sit, grabbing your hands gingerly to help you to your feet. “There’s talks of a party this weekend, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Consider me your plus one.” He mumbles into your hair. His strong arms wrap around your waist and hold you flush against his body, his woody aroma flooding your senses.

You can feel his warm palms through the thin fabric of your shirt. They slide around your body as he pulls away from the embrace, taking home on your hips with a light squeeze. You glance up and his blue eyes are already locked onto yours, a grin pulling at the dimples of his cheeks.

“Maybe… practice the game a little bit until then, hm?” He speaks lowly.

“Rafe Cameron!” You shout, slapping at his chest as he puts his hands up in defense, chuckling as he steps back.

“Let me know when to pick you up.” He gives you one final grin before shutting your door gently.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you took Rafe’s advice to heart and stayed awake as long as your eyes would stay open- practicing that damn game.

You lay peacefully, breathing deep and smoothly atop your blankets with the controller still loosely in your right hand. Your headset is still somehow on your head, softly playing the background music from the loading screen as you hadn’t had a chance to shut it off before your eyes gave out.

You don’t even stir when Rafe slides your window open, being as careful as he can to avoid the glass planter on your windowsill as he creeps into the warmth of your room. He carefully slides the glass shut once more, bringing a shaky hand up and flipping the latch, locking the window that he had made sure was unlocked earlier unbeknownst to you.

I can’t be crazy, she definitely wants me too. Right?

He turns around with a breath held deep in his lungs, praying to any god he can that the floorboards won’t creak beneath his shoes and that his best friend wouldn’t be awake.

His gaze falls onto your sleeping body, soft and still, and he slowly lets out the breath he had been holding in. The light from the screen illuminates your skin, glowing with the different colored hues as it flashes. He takes discreet, soundless steps towards you as he allows his eyes to rake over your figure.

Your hair is beautifully messy, strewn around on the pillow that you lay back against. He pays close attention to your tiny fingers that lazily wrap around the handle of the controller, one arm draped above your head and the other laid out to the side. He peers at your stomach, watching it rise and fall as you breathe.

His eyes wander up. You’re clad in the same tank top you’d been in when he left, but the way your nipples strain against the thin fabric just begging to be touched leads him to the conclusion that you ditched the bra.

It’s like she wants me to look.

I’ll look. I won’t touch her. I’ll look and leave. And then we’ll never think or speak about this again.

He takes microscopic steps toward your bed, his heart pounding against his sternum. His knees graze the edge of the mattress as he closes in on you and he gasps lightly, backing up so he doesn’t cause the bed to dip.

His face turns red, veins protruding from his skin as he holds in every ounce of oxygen he can to lean down beside you, placing his ear next to the side of your headset. He smirks to himself when he hears the music in the speakers, standing back to his full height.

He shoves a hand into his back pocket, fishing around and digging for his phone. He pulls it out and opens his camera, holding it up for the best angle and capturing a perfect image of his clueless best friend asleep in bed.

She doesn’t know how perfect she is.

Something inside of him wants more, wants to touch every inch he can. But he can’t, he has a goal and a plan. Get in and look then get the fuck out.

What would a couple more pictures hurt?

It’s like he moves in slow motion, he can’t control it as he reaches out and grabs the bottom hem of your tank top. You’d think he was performing brain surgery as he inches it up, exposing more and more of the fleshy skin of your abdomen. He wants to brush his fingertips along your skin, to feel every part of you along the way, but he can’t rush this.

Get the picture and go.

He watches as your plump tits spill out from the fabric, jiggling into place and sitting atop your chest, fully bared to him. His breath hitches and he pulls his hand away, gulping as your lashes flutter ever so slightly. You stir for a moment but you stay asleep.

A wave of relief floods through his body and he lifts his phone again, shakily clicking the shutter button. He takes so many more photos than necessary, moving and catching all the angles of your perfect breasts.

It’s like he loses himself. His pulse surges in his ears, beating so loud he’s almost convinced you can hear it over the music. His body betrays his logical mind and before he knows it, his fingertips brush over your delicate skin. He lets out a groan, feeling his pants tighten against his crotch as he moves to touch the other nipple.

To his surprise, your eyes remain closed and the rhythm of your breathing stays steady.

He swipes his phone over to the video setting, hitting the record button as he palms the fat of your tits, letting his fingertips dig into the skin lightly. His veiny hand explores your chest as the camera picks up all the evidence. He allows his hand to slide down the valley of your breasts, slipping across to your ribcage and down to your hip before he stops dead in his tracks.

This is too much of a risk, you’re being fucking crazy.

He stops his recording and shoves his phone back away into his pocket, biting his lip as he scans your body one last time.

Your body reacts to the loss of heat quickly. Your brows furrow and your cherry tinted lips form into a pout. Your legs stretch and move as your busy subconsciously tries to find a more comfortable position. Your leg falls to the side and your head turns the opposite way.

Rafe is frozen solid the entire time, too scared to even blink. He stays that way for a couple minutes, feet locked into his spot and watching you closely for any signs of rousing from your slumber.

But to his surprise, you don’t. You stay blissfully unconscious, your tits still exposed to him.

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until it’s too late. His cock throbs in the palm of his hand as he grips the base, choking back groans as he begins to slowly pump his length.

This isn’t bad, right? It’s just jacking off. I’m a man and she’s got a nice rack. She would understand.

He bites his tongue and presses it into his cheek as he tightens his grip around his needy member. His tip is red and weeping, streams of precum oozing out and dripping down the rolling veins that decorate his shaft.

He slowly inches closer, dragging his feet across the floor as he speeds up his needy movements. The muscles in his forearm tense and ripple as he desperately pumps himself, waves of dopamine shooting throughout his bloodstream as he stands beside your sleeping body.

I’m fucking sick.

He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help it. He reaches out and lets his hand run up your smooth calf, shuddering at the contrast of the smooth skin against the rough pads of his fingers. They trail up carelessly to the expanse of your thighs and he has to hold back the animalistic urge to squeeze your skin.

Come on Rafe, stop it. Stop here.

His internal battle proves itself to be irrelevant as he does in fact squeeze the skin, his other hand giving his pulsing cock the same amount of pressure.

His breath hitches in his throat and he feels like any composure he’s had is long gone.

He brings his hand up and pulls your shorts to the side, not even caring about the audible moan that falls from his lips when he takes in the sight of your wet pussy.

He bites his lip until he tastes the metallic tinge of blood, sliding his hand up and down his cock as his thumb brushes over your clit with featherlight pressure.

You begin to stir, your body jolted by the foreign feeling, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lets the pad of his thumb press down onto the tender bundle and slide down to your entrance, dipping into your sweet center. He pulls back and traces his index finger across your wet slit before pushing in.

“Sh..shit…” he speaks aloud, sitting onto the mattress.

The sudden shift causes you to snap your eyes open, your vision hazy as it adjusts to the light. Before you can even form a coherent thought you’re suddenly aware of the pressure inbetween your legs. You blink harshly, clearing your eyes of the remaining haze and look up to see two blue eyes staring back at you.

His mouth is moving but you can’t make out his words.

Sitting up abruptly, you scoot back and rip the headset off of yourself, tossing it haphazardly into the floor.

“Rafe?” You squeal in shock, your pulse pumping wildly through your veins.

“Shhh.. sweetheart. Please!” He nearly begs, scooting closer to you. “You’ll wake your whole family.”

You look down and notice his right fist gripping around his cock.

“Just relax, okay?” He whispers.

He hooks his finger into your gummy walls and you let out a strained gasp, looking down to see your best friend knuckle deep in your pussy.

“R-rafe… what a-” you choke on your words as he withdraws his finger and plunges back in.

“It’s okay… shhh.. feels good, doesn’t it?” He murmurs, moving his thumb up to rub circles onto your swollen clit.

Your fatigue ridden brain is having trouble keeping up as waves of confusion and pleasure spread throughout your body.

“It… I don- fuck. W-what are you doing here?” You whine, your hips instinctively bucking closer to his hand despite your best judgement.

“Just wanted to look at you.” He croaks as he resumes his jerking motions on himself. “Then I… I just couldn’t help myself.”

The desperation in his eyes shouldn’t turn you on. The way you woke up to your best friend touching your body shouldn’t turn you on.

But even still you find yourself rhythmically grinding against his hand, dropping every single question from your mind as his finger brushes against a sensitive knot in your core.

“Yeah, there you go.” He coos, scooting closer to you and releasing his grip on his erection to paw at your tits. “So fucking pretty. Wanted to put them in my mouth so bad.”

“So do it.” You say before you can even think, reaching up to rid yourself of the fabric that served no purpose anymore.

A smirk grows from ear to ear before he leans forward, cupping the area right below your breast and right above your ribcage to push your skin into his mouth. He doesn’t stop the curling movement of his finger, he adds another one into your now drenched pussy as he sucks and licks at your nipple. You can’t help but arch your back into him, using both of your shaking arms to keep yourself propped up. He hums and groans against your skin as he removes his fingers from your core and hooks a strong arm around you, ridding you of the struggle and pulling you into his lap.

“Let me fuck you.” He whispers against your neck as he leaves hot open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin.

You do nothing but nod eagerly, lifting yourself off enough to pull your shorts off in a rushed motion, him yanking his jeans and boxers down in the process. He reaches behind his head to grip the neckline of his shirt and toss it to the side. He grips the base of his cock as you sit back down and slaps it against your core, making you shudder at the sting it leaves on your aching clit.

He holds himself steady as you line his head up with your entrance, slowly sinking down to take in his length. The stretch is blissfully painful, and you take your time to let yourself adjust to him. One of his hands settles on your hip and encourages you down while the other rests against your throat, not adding pressure but leaving a tingling burn where it sits. When you sit fully down his head falls back and his fingers dig into your skin, gripping around your hipbone.

“So… so fucking big.” You sigh, rolling your hips back and forth.

His ego visibly inflates and he nods slyly. “I know. And look at you taking every fucking inch.”

A strained whine digs its way from deep in your chest and echoes off the walls as you lift yourself up and sink back down. His thick cock pushes against your clenching walls and fills you up beyond what you’d ever thought was possible. You get your rhythm and start bouncing up and down, crying out each time his tip kisses your cervix.

“Gotta be quiet, baby doll. Your parents would never let me over again if they knew I was fucking their little innocent princess like this.” He whispers and runs his fingers over your bottom lip, eyes widening when you accept them and let him lay them flat across your tongue.

You hum around his digits and whimper when he bucks his hips up to meet your own, sending a shockwave through your core. He takes notices and does it over and over, a satisfied glint apparent in his hooded eyes.

Your walls contract and squeeze around his throbbing length as the tension in your stomach threatens to snap. You flash your doe eyes at him and swirl your tongue around his fingers as he pounds into you from below, every ragged breath that falls from his mouth fanning across your skin.

“You’re close.” He says matter of factly. “Give it to me.”

He moves the hand on your hip to the space where the two of you meet, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit. You’re coming undone around him before you have time to utter a response, biting down on his knuckles and clawing at the skin of his chest. The pleasure tears through you like a wildfire, every synapse in your brain firing and focused on the orgasmic relief Rafe is giving you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and moves both hands to your hips, lifting you up and down like a toy as he ruts into your pussy. “Gonna let me cum in you? Let me.” He grits his teeth as if he’s holding back. “Tell me to cum in you.”

“R-rafe, please.. cum in me. Don’t want you to pull out.”

With the dirty confirmation he craved, he releases, spilling hot white ropes of cum into you and painting every inch of your walls. You feel his warmth flood your core and you slump against his chest, rocking with every deep breath he heaves.

You sit like this for a while, sweaty and sticky and fucked out as he lazily runs his hands up and down your bare back. The beat of his heart against his chest is almost enough to put you back to sleep, but you whine when he lifts you off of his body and sits you back in your original position against your pillows. You sit in silence as he collects his clothes and redresses, smoothing his hair with his hands.

He slowly makes his way back to the bed and uses an arm to keep himself steady as he leans down and places a lingering kiss to your temple. He stands up without a word and walks to your window, undoing the latch and pushing it up. He turns around with a smirk and a deep chuckle before he crouches down.

“Gotta make sure to keep this thing locked.”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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